


Hell spills over

by yeotto (woelfchen)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Stiles Stilinski, Demons, Established Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Investigator Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Polyamory Negotiations, Stetopher Week 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woelfchen/pseuds/yeotto
Summary: For his newest case, Stiles Stilinski finds himself in need of assistance. Unfortunately, the only person who could help him find the people that have literally vanished from clear sight, is Peter Hale. Even less fortunate, there is bad blood between them. It it had only gotten worse when Stiles had hit on Chris Argent before he knew the two of them were a couple. If only they could stop rubbing it in all the time.At least, this is what Stiles thinks.Thank god Peter Hale is so helpful and Chris is so patient.





	1. Chapter 1

Within the span of two weeks, three people have gone missing. Gone, without a trace. Stiles, who is working as a consultant on all things supernatural for the Beacon Hills Police Department, found the case on his desk after the second person. Well, he didn’t have a desk at the station, of course, but Jordan Parrish is nice enough to let him share his desk whenever he gets called in.

 

Stiles is pouring over the video of the second woman _completely vanishing from clear sight_ , playing it second by second and trying to pinpoint the method used, when the third person gets called in. An older woman saw a middle aged man turn to nothing in a busy parking lot and freaked out so much that she called the police. 

Stiles grabs his unofficial badge and heads out to the scene.

 

* * *

 

“You know, I was just picking up some food for Mr. Mittens and Cleopatra, so I went here because I always come here. They have a great discount if you buy more than 10 cans. And I saw Bridget O’Mally with her new husband, so I went over to talk to her. And then I saw it, that man, he was just standing right over there, in the middle of the road. It was quite rude, and so I changed plans to go over and tell him to get out of the road, you know? And then, from one moment to the next, he was gone!”, the older lady tells Stiles with great many gestures and an increasingly shrill voice. Her eyes are glowing with excitement, and makes a grab for Stiles’ notepad. The only thing that Stiles has written down was the place. She huffs.

“Okay, Miss, thank you. Can you tell me more about the man you saw? How big he was, what he was wearing, did he have a beard, something like that? Or anything else that could be important?”, Stiles inquires, pulling the notepad back to him. 

 

“Oh! Well, he was pretty tall. I think he was wearing a jacket? A brown one? I don’t think I remember a beard, but I’m not really sure.” She tells him.

Stiles nods and writes it down. “All right, thank you. That would be all for now. If you remember anything else about this, please contact the BHPD.” He dismisses her and goes to investigate the place the man vanished.

 

There are no visible marks in the area, no scratches or darker patches, no discolorations or substances left behind. He did get a hint of sulfur though, so that was worrying. “Son of a bitch.”

 

* * *

 

There is one thing that Stiles really doesn’t want to do, and it is calling Peter Hale out for help. Stiles has a complicated history with him, but when the stakes are higher than Stiles can handle alone, Peter is the one to contact. The man himself is a supernatural being on his own, a werewolf. Stiles has once arrested him, years back when he wasn’t legally allowed, or old enough, to arrest someone. Back then, the man had gone on a wild rampage after a big fallout with his pack, and Peter has never quite forgotten that he was bested by a teenager.

But, since Stiles had a pretty good idea what he was up against this time, he makes the call.

 

“Is there something I can do for you?”, Peter starts as soon as he picks up the phone. He sounds cheerful, and not at all smarmy like Stiles expected.

“You know it.”, Stiles says, trying not to sound like he is gritting his teeth. It was probably in vain, since the werewolf would be able to tell thanks to his increased hearing, but it is nice to put up a front. “Two women and a man have literally vanished into thin air. I could only go to one scene when it was fresh. There were no marks, but I could detect traces of sulfur.”

“A demon.”, Peter fills in. He is quiet for a moment. “We’ll be there in half an hour. Where do we meet?”

And god damn it, Peter is going to bring Chris. Chris Argent is just one more reason why him and Peter would never get along greatly. How was Stiles even supposed to know that the man was in a relationship, and that Peter was his partner, when he had been out in a bar alone? Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Walmart parking lot on Main.”

Peter scoffs. “We’ll see you there then.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles had picked up a coffee for himself by the time the black SUV ma kes its way into the lot. Unimpressed, Stiles sip s at the hot beverage when they park in a nearby empty spot. S tiles d oes not care at all that both older men look incredibly good, and that they probably were making out before they got here  and hadn’t bothered to fix their hair . Nope. Not at all. He burn s his tongue on the still incredibly hot coffee.

Peter saunters over like he owns the place, while Chris, calm and collected, opens his trunk and takes out one of those fancy metal briefcases. “Well hello there, Stiles. I have to say, I was a little disappointed that you only called because you needed our help.”

“Yeah, well.”, Stiles says, not going for the bait. He waits until Chris comes up to them before he explains the situation to them. “About 40 minutes ago, a tall man wearing a probably brown jacket shifted into another dimension, right over here.” He points out the place. “The witness couldn’t describe the victim further. She didn’t see how he got there or what he was doing before. He might have shifted in, but the CCTV record I have of the second case showed the victim walking up herself, than standing in place for 20 seconds and than vanishing on a sidewalk.”

 

Peter inspects the place himself. “Still smells like sulfur.”, he comments, and Chris opens his briefcase. He pulls out some utensils, something to swipe the ground and some electronic device. “And the third instance?”, he asks while he fiddles with the device.

“First, technically. No video, no witness report. Just a reported missing person, but likely to be connected. The husband claims she went out of the car to get her wallet. She didn’t return within 5 minutes, so he went to look for her. There was nobody around and she was gone.”

“Could be a coincident.”, Chris says.

“Could be. That’s why it wasn’t on my desk until the second incident with proof, and they had no lead.”

 

Peter crosse s his arms. “ So now what? We track a demon, you dispell it, and that’s it?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows. “Ideally, we also find the missing people and free them, but yeah. That would be the plan.”

Peter huffs. He wasn’t agreeing, but before he could argue, Chris gently touches his arm to calm him down. “It’s not a lot to go on, but we’ll see what we can do.”

 

They continue to check the spot of the shift, then ask for the other two places. Stiles gives them the addresses and they promise to call him should they find something else. After they took off, Stiles made his way back home. He lives in a two room apartment, where he converted half of his living room into his office slash library. He keeps valuable bestiaries, spell books and grimoires between the Harry Potter series and gay erotica. Stiles is man enough to admit it isn’t an ideal setup, but stubborn enough to insist it is fine, and childish enough that it made him grin when he accidentally grabs the wrong book from tome to time.

 

* * *

 

Stiles is completely absorbed into an old germanic text about demons when his phone rings. He jolts out of his concentration, his back popping loudly. He groans and rubs his back with one hand while he reaches for his phone with the other. A glance at his clock tells him he’d been hunched over his work for at least four hours.

“Stilinski”, he answers his phone. There was no time for pleasantries, and anyone who calls him would cut to the important stuff anyways.

“Chris thinks the places of the shifts are connected. Do you have a map close by?”, Peter greets him. He sounds uneasy, so Stiles jolts to his feet.

“Hang on a second.”, he tells Peter. There is a rolled up map of Beacon Hills fastened up on his wall above his family photos. Stiles pulls the string to unfurl it, and makes a grab for his pins. “Yeah, got it.”

“The distance between the first two shifts is the exact same as the distance between the distance between the last two.” Peter explains as Stiles pushes a pin into each spot. The map wobbles and crinkles, this isn’t as easy with one hand as Stiles had expected when he installed the map in the first place. “Could be a coincident?”, Stiles argues weakly.

Peter sighs. “Not a coincident. It’s the _exact_ same distance. Down to the meter.”

 

This surprises Stiles. “You found the exact spot of the shift?”

“Of course, Stiles. I’m a werewolf, you should know what I can do for you.”, Peter argues, his tone taking a teasing note that has nothing to do with the case anymore. Stiles clenches his teeth together, trying not to react to it in any way audible. “How?”, he grits out.

Peter drops back to the professional tone he’d spoken in before. “The scent of sulfur was still lingering. How long did you say was the first shift ago?”

“Two weeks ago.”, he informs him. If the sulfur is still lingering after all this time, it could mean one of two things. One: the demon kidnapping people is incredibly powerful. Two: there are open portals to the demon realm, trough which anyone or anything could go or be pulled trough at any point of time.

Peter curses. Stiles agrees with the sentiment. He pushes a hand trough his hair, a nervous habit he’d adopted when he first started his job as an official consultant, and hadn’t been able to shake since.

 

“We have to figure out the purpose of all of this. This has disastrous potential.” Peter says, and again, Stiles has to agree.

“I’ve been refreshing my demonology. There are a couple possible scenarios, but I’ll have to review them with the new information.” Stiles tells Peter.

Peter hums. Then, he offers: “You could come over, see if Chris’ library has anything to offer. He’s also been reading up. You two should split the effort and get to the root of all of this faster.”

 

Stiles hates that Peter is probably right. The Argents have an extended library with many sources from all over the world, and ever since Stiles found out, he’s been jealous of it. So far, he has been able to help everyone with what he had, but every now and then, he thinks it must be nice to have whole volumes condensed of very specific topics.

“Fine. Where to?”

 

Peter gives him the address, then they hang up. Stiles packs a bag with the texts and books he hasn’t gone trough and, in another one, the ones he’s already red. It doesn’t hurt to be thorough. Before he leaves, he quickly detours to the bathroom and brushes his teeth and reapplies deodorant. He’d rather not get kicked out after ten minutes because he’s offensive to Peters senses.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The address Peter gave him leads to an upscale apartment building in the reclaimed industrial sector. Stiles knows that Derek, Peters nephew used to live around the area as well. He’d met the man when Lydia had taken Allison, who had taken Scott, who in turn dragged Stiles along to a party Derek had held in honor of his younger sisters birthday.

The building still has the industrial facade, but the interior has been remodeled completely. There was a nice and cozy entry hall with a doorman and everything. He directs Stiles to take the elevator up to the third floor, and then knock on the left door.

 

Stiles rides up the elevator, wondering why anyone would decide to put white carpet in an elevator. People wore their dirty shoes in them all the time, and having it be cleaned on a regular basis just seems like an inconvenience.

The hallway of the third floor is nice as well, as wide as it is long, and there are only two doors. Next to the right one stands a shoe rack and an upholstered bench, somebody even put a fern into the corner. The door Stiles comes to stand in front of is made of a darker wood, and the only thing next to it is a plaque proclaiming ‘P. Hale; C. Argent’

 

Stiles takes a deep breath, then knocks. After only a second or so, Peter opens the door, only wearing a white shirt and soft looking sweatpants. He grins at Stiles. “Isn’t that a sight to behold. Come on in.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Sometimes, Peter was a little too forward fishing for compliments, so Stiles doesn’t answer. He hands over one of the bags though, when Peter reaches out a hand for it.

 

As Peter leads him to the library, a whole room of course, not a shelf like Stiles has. The scent of cooking meat and spices wafts from the open door to the kitchen, and permeates trough everything. It is so amazing, that Stiles stumbles a little over nothing, so Peter has to reach out to catch him. “Careful there.”, Peter says in a strangely gentle tone. Stiles quickly rightens himself again, and only then Peter lets go. He gives the younger man a soft squeeze to his shoulder, then turns to point at the kitchen. “We’re having a roast. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Yeah sure, you need to eat.”, Stiles says in return. Peter scoffs, but doesn’t say anything else.

 

* * *

 

The library is a room on the smaller side. It has bookshelves to three sides, and a big window on the fourth. In the middle of the room, facing each other, there are two massive desks set up, both with a laptop on top. The shelves are stuffed with books, and the room smells like magic and old paper. It is kind of a pipe dream for Stiles to have a room like this for himself one day.

Chris, also dressed casually in a shirt, is sitting at one of the desks, a stack of books next to him, and a thick tome open in front of him. He looks up with a smile. “Stiles, hey.”

 

Stiles, still focused on everything around him, answered with a “Woah.” and promptly turnes scarlet.

“You know, I get that reaction. Personally, I always think _woah_ when I see Chris.”, Peter tells him, leaning close to Stiles’ ear. His breath a teasing tickle on his neck.

“Well, obviously. You two have every right to think that about each other. And obviously, I was talking about the books. This is everything I-”, Stiles clears his throat, forcing down his embarrassment. He doesn’t notice when Peter and Chris exchange a meaningful look while he waves his hand around. “It’s a good setup.”

Peter pushes him forwards with a hand on the small of his back. “It is”, he confirms, “We can always see each other, and we can always reach out to touch.”

 

Stiles jolts at the touch, but decides that he wouldn’t be bothered by Peters teasing any longer. He is an adult, and he is clearly over all the things that had happened back in the days. This is a professional visit. “Please, have a seat.”, Chris offers and makes a gesture to the other desk.

“Yeah, thank you. Hi, by the way.”

Chris just smiles at him again, then points to the books next to him. “This is everything I’ve gone trough. Let’s talk about what we got so far.”

Stiles nods and sinks into the chair. It is seriously the most comfortable thing his butt has come into contact with, maybe ever. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

 

* * *

 

It takes the better part of an hour for Chris and Stiles do update each other on the demons and their lore, and to discuss possible connections between the shifts and the evidence. Which, admittedly, isn’t much. Every now and then, Peter calls out a possible connection from where he’s obviously listening in from the kitchen.

Stiles finishes up reading the germanic text with a frown, not having found anything new in it. He pushes it aside and takes a look around the books literally surrounding him. Delighted, he notices that everything seems to be sorted by topic and publication date. He notices that the biggest part of the library is dedicated to werewolves, big surprise there, then witches and other magic casters, then a whole section with grimoires, bestiaries, and compendiums. There is a shelf full of mixed topics, bundled still, but there just aren’t that many books about kelpies to warrant a full section. Or yetis. Still, Stiles eyes the four books with curious envy. The only thing he has on yetis, are the yeti games and a small paragraph in one bestiary. All other books he found on that topic were written by the same people who go bigfoot hunting with a camera filming at all times.

 

The section on demons, right below the section on angels, spans two whole shelves, and has obvious blank spaces in them where Chris has picked some of the books out.

He takes _‘Braxton: Creatures from Below’_ and _‘M. Dayton: Daemons’_ from the shelf. Then his eyes land on _‘Hell spills over’_ , no author. On a whim, he takes that, too.

Chris glances at the books and snorts. “Good luck with that one. It’s written by a lunatic, of the ‘the end is nigh’ kind. I got it as a gift.”

 

Stiles wonders if that necessarily means that it’s wrong. Something must have freaked that person out, why not an encounter with demons? He decides to start with that book.

 

* * *

 

Peter calls them for dinner a little while later. Stiles is surprised that Chris tugs him out of his chair when he didn’t react right away, but goes with him. Into a dining room. Seriously, who even has a dining room in an apartment complex? Peter serves them roast with potatoes, carrots and a salad on the side. It all looks amazing, and smells even better. “Oh my god, I can’t remember when I last had real food.”, Stiles blurts.

Peter grins at him and reaches for his plate to give him a slice of the roast and some veggies. He does the same with Chris, then serves himself. “I’ll take that as a compliment then. Do you not cook for yourself?”

Stiles waits till Peter is seated himself before grabbing his fork and knife. He knows his werewolf etiquette, and waiting for the alpha, or the one highest in the picking order, is basically the first rule you find, in every book ever. “It’s not really fun to cook for just one person.”, he says noncommittally before cutting into his meat. It’s not beef, and also not pork, he observes.

“That’s just sad.”, Peter says, and pushes a piece of potato in his mouth.

“Yeah. I used to cook all the time for my father, he has a strict diet he has to stick to. I needed to get him used to healthy food, and he was really into fried stuff. So I would cook before he came home, or prepare stuff when he had his days off. By the time I moved out, his appetite for grease had gone down.” Stiles pushes the fork in his mouth, and it is like an explosion of flavors on his tongue. He has to close his eyes to not get overwhelmed. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

“Thank you, Stiles. If you want, you can come by and cook with us any day.” Peter says, and fixes Stiles with a look.

 

“You mean as a payback? Sure, I guess. Do you like lasagna?”

“Whatever works for you, Stiles.”, Peter agrees, and looks smug. Chris reaches out and pats him on the thigh. It’s such a domestic gesture, that Stiles feels like he’s invading on their intimacy, so he quickly looks away. “Hey, by the way, what is this exactly?”, he stammers, lifting another fork full of roast.

“Boar,” Peter tells him, “I hunted it myself.” He flashes him a grin. Stiles could have guessed. He’s surprised he didn’t.

 

* * *

 

They make idle chit-chat over their meal, before they return to their research. Chris is correct in his assertion of _‘Hell spills over’_ , it’s strange and incohesive, but weirdly fascinating. Stiles just can’t put it down.

Peter joins them after a little while, dragging in a chair from the dining room. He makes Stiles scoot over, so he can fit in next to him. It’s only fair, Stiles thinks, it’s his desk after all. Peter takes out a stack of books, japanese folk lore, and starts up his laptop. Stiles frowns at the books, but doesn’t comment on it.

 

To Stiles’ surprise, Peter opens up a database, and starts starts typing in the author and titles, date, keywords and even copies over the index. When Peter notices Stiles gaping at him, he flashes him a grin and asks: “Surprised?”

“Well yeah, what are you even doing?”, Stiles counters.

The grin on Peters face softens into a smile. “I’m working on a register. Mostly for people like you, who need to research supernatural texts to help others. I’m building a loan-based network, so people in need have access to solutions. I’ve written the database myself, and handed it out to other private archives I know. They’ll pass it on to others as well.”

Stiles drops his book. “What- Are you serious? That’s amazing! And people are on board with that?”

“Well, not all of them. A lot of collectors are skeptical, but that was expected. Nobody is required to input everything, or send away their priceless pieces via mail. They can just type in ‘more books on warlocks available’ so people can contact them with specifics. And they can put down that people have to come see them if they want to see the books. So the books don’t leave their home.” Peter explains. “I put in our collection to encourage others to input theirs. Also, you have to be invited to even access the database, Chris has agreed to check everyone that wants to apply.”

 

Stiles is, for once in his live, speechless. He can’t stop staring at Peter with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry, Stiles. You already have an account. You’re the one who sparked it all after all.”

Peter jerks, as if Chris just kicked him in the shin. Neither man acknowledge it. Stiles tries to form words, his mouth smacking open and closed a few times, before he finally manages a soft “This is the best thing that I heard in a year”, and then, “What do you mean I sparked it all?”

 

Peter leans closer. “I was short of a project, and you seemed to struggle with a darach at the time. I know you would have dealt with her way quicker if you’d have had all the information available. So I decided to gift this to you.”

“I can not believe you.”, Stiles says. His head is spinning. This is a lot for him to take in, and there are demons to be dealt with. “I- When all of this is over,” Stiles mentions to the book that’s still open on a picture of a pentagram, “We’re gonna have a nice, long talk about all of this. Like, really nice. Possibly at a restaurant, because I feel like I need to pay you back with good food and wine or something. Also, you need to tell me all the details about this.”

The other man smiles at him. “It’s a date then. Can I bring my partner?”

 

Truly, nothing has brought Stiles faster back to reality that that statement. “Sure. Yeah, no, of course. I can make that happen.” Then, he picks ‘ _Hell spills over’_ back up, immersing himself back into demons.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have regular access to the internet at the moment. Please be patient.


End file.
